Friday, May 4, 2012

Come Again

The sudden gush--
And the slow trickle
Of this seasonal river
Flow. Women

Live with the color red
Loud within and without--
A war cry; sometimes
Just a cry.

This flesh betrays itself
Once more, composed
Of contradictory pulses
And impulses.

Yet now we have
Permission to rage
Or merely surge against
The walls

That hem us in
For once uncaring
As we batter it down.

After the storm
Has passed,
We will be meek again.
We will choke

On our words
And revoke our access
To this secret place
Within and without

Until we bleed again.

Christine Fojas
note: an answer to the question, what topic will I never write a poem about? because of course, never say never...

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